


All Of Us Normal People Can Only Wish We Were Magic

by Anamakorga



Series: To Preexist In Its Entirety [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Badass Jheselbraum, Everyone Has Issues, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'll Admit to Those, Magic Dipper Pines, McGuffins, Nerdy Ford Pines, Protective Bill Cipher, Slow Build, Stan Pines is a Jerk, Thaddeus A is Just There, The Power Of Mabel, They all need therapy, and communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2019-10-25 10:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 12,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17723378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anamakorga/pseuds/Anamakorga
Summary: Everything needs to start somewhere. (Halsey's circles, Bermuda Triangle visits, a key)Everything needs to end somewhere. (golden pupils and pink irises, a voice in the darkness)Sometimes, though, it drags on a little. (forgive and forget, don't look back, wake up)Sometimes it doesn't end pleasantly. (Coughing up a lung, melting, axe to the side.)In between the adventure story, there is always some type of connection.And somehow, Bill Cipher tells no lies.





	1. Introduction (Part I)

 Hey there, kid. So, you’re about to hear a story. It’s a downer, I’ll tell you that. You’ve got death, life, betrayal, loyalty, murder, resurrection, and a whole slew of other things that are either bad or good or somewhere in between. My name is Bill. Nice to meet you. Or not. Whichever you prefer. Now, listen up, because I consider myself a pretty good guy, but my life is depending on my telling truths. Whole, nothing but, yadda, yadda, yadda, you know the drill. Anyhow, this whole shindig ain’t pretty at times, so if you ever feel the need to cover your ears, don’t feel bad. In fact, because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll warn you when one of those moments is coming up. I’d advise you listen. 

It all started in an abandoned office building. Well, it started millennia before that, really, what with all the circumstances required for this particular office building to exist in this place, and to be abandoned, but the important part for the purposes of this story, it all started in an abandoned office building. Axel Parmantier came here often – he had never been one for casual human company, and what with living in a city, this was one of the few places he could ever escape it. He could still hear the cars passing by outside, but he was on the very outskirts of the city, and on one of the roads that was used less, as well. Not to mention the fact that humans tend to be sleeping during the nighttime, instead of driving down roads. 

Sometimes Axel would look out of the holes in the building that used to be windows and watch the cars. He would make up stories about who the drivers were and why they were driving along the road so late at night. Sometimes they’d be escaping from the people who insisted that the driver owed them money. Other times, they would be government spies whose covers had been blown. Most commonly, though, they were young, and they were escaping from something. Axel would wish it was him in the pontiac, or ford, or chevrolet. He could spend hours just staring out of the not-windows, thinking. 

That wasn’t what he was doing tonight, though. It was what he had intended to do, certainly, but not what he was doing. Instead, he was marveling at the purple-green hole in the cement wall. Beyond it was what was not the other side of the wall in an abandoned office building. Beyond the hole was a sky was the color of butter, and teal grass. It seemed to expand far past that window, and Axel hadn’t smelled pine needles once since moving from Holiday City in Ohio, but he was almost certain that was the smell. Unconsciously, he took a step forward. The wave of warmth that hit him was like a solid wall of heaven in contrast to the cold October air.

He took another step forward as though he was in a trance. There was a wind coming from the doorway, like it was trying to push him away. He paused a second and considered several things. He had a feeling, down in his gut, that if he went through this hole now, he would not come back. His family would worry about him. If he ever did, by some miracle, make his return, he would be in so much trouble. It was possible he wouldn’t be believed to be the same person. His family had always been superstitious. Still, he walked up to the entrance. It felt like it was like a hot summer day beyond the wall. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through the doorway onto the top of a tall hill.

The nausea that followed was perhaps slightly unfortunate. He fell to his hands and knees, out of breath. The ground shifted beneath him, and he struggled to get to his feet for a moment. He turned to where the doorway had been just a moment before, and found that though it was still there, it looked not out onto the abandoned office building where he spent his nights. The view was instead of a murky swamp with a stench that made his stomach do flip-flops at an even faster speed. Looking farther out on the world he was currently in resulted in a faraway village with stone buildings. At least, he assumed it was stone. There was really no way of knowing those things. 

“Lorra? Vla aeuo vai?” came a voice from behind him. He turned and was met with a figure in a hooded cloak. He couldn’t see their face, but they had holes cut out for horns that extended over Axel’s head, despite the figure themselves only coming up to his waist. Their cloak reached down to their knees, and from it came a pair of feet and legs that were entirely featureless and seemed to melt into the ground around them.

“What?” he asked. “I can’t understand you.”

“Og kaiuto. Na kuaertraekau.” They pause, before making a beckoning gesture. “Worr, I bark laeqo ae tvaeuo. Cado vkl do.” Their tone isn’t menacing, more annoyed, and Axel thinks he could probably take them, so when they start to leave, he follows them. They walk towards the village, the figure making the occasional comment, but he can’t understand them, so he mostly ignores it. 

He’s lead to one of the houses, and the figure holds out a hand to tell him to wait while they go it and get what looks like an overlarge metal bracelet. They put it on Axel’s wrist, and several dozen hooks sink themselves into his wrist and forearm. He starts clawing at it, trying to get it off, before the figure grabs his arm.

“Stop that.” They say. “It’s a translator. How else are you supposed to understand me?” Their voice is high and feminine. “Now, who are you?”   
“Who are you?”   
“I’m the spirit of love, beauty, and joy. But my friends call me Mabel.” 

“Your name is Mabel?”

“That is not what I said  _at all,_ but I imagine it’s a faulty translator thing. Can’t be helped. And you?”   
“My name is-,” He pauses. He never liked his name, and it occurred to him that this was the opportunity he needed to go by something,  _anything,_ else. “Bill. Bill Cipher. Nice to meet you.”

Yes, my name was Axel. I never liked it. Shut up and sit down before I-no, no murder today. I will...insult your family and friends with vicious sincerity. Ha. So there. Your family and friends are being slandered. By me. If you do not shut up and sit down. All good? Good. Let’s continue.

“Nice to meet you too, Bill. So, how’d you get here?”   
“I, um, walked through a thing, and then I just was, I guess?”

“Cool. Was it pretty circular and glowy?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So, that’s a Halsey’s Circle. We tend not to go through those ‘cuz you can’t get back through.”   
“Yeah, I noticed. How would I get back, though?”   
“Well, in order to get back we would need to know what dimension number you’re from. You’re human, right? So, you’d be from one of the apostrophe-backslash dimensions, which is unfortunate for two reasons, one being that there are millions of those, given that you humans are so darn unpredictable, and two being that non-human multiversal beings can’t go into them. Well, I suppose we could, but it would take a  _lot_ of paperwork, and I’ve never liked paperwork,  _so_...,”   
“I’m never going back?”   
“Yep, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Great even.”   
“Don’t you have...oh, never mind. Anyhow, c’mon! Let me show you ‘round town.”   
Bill (it fit him, he decided) was dragged down the dirt road with little regard to how fast he could actually walk. Mabel pointed out buildings, naming the purpose or inhabitants. They were soon on the edge of town, and she pointed out what looked like a young woman sitting on the fence that surrounded the town. 

“That’s Jheselbraum.” Mabel said. “She’s human, like you. Only child of the other humans who used to live here. Likes guarding town. Won’t like you.”   
“You just...know that?”   
“Spirit of love, remember? That includes platonic love, familial love, love of material objects, and love of oneself, as well as romantic and sexual love.”   
“ _Applesauce_ , that sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah, I suppose it is sometimes. Anyhow, I’ll be seeing you, but otherwise, I’m off.”

“’Ight. Be seeing you, I suppose.”   
Mabel stands and walks away, as Bill watches he leave, he realizes that her cloak has lengthened – it falls around her ankles now, instead of her knees. He considers calling out to her and asking why but decides against it. She’s seemed strangely on edge the entire day, and he doesn’t want to add to that. There’s a tap on his shoulder and he spins around to find-,

“Jheselbraum?”   
“No, it’s Jessica. I’m almost certain Mabel calls me that as payback for calling her Mabel, but, you know, faulty translator, can’t be helped. Besides, I’ve heard her real name and it is  _definitely_ not pronounceable by human beings. Or beings who communicate with actual vocal cords, and not psychic transmission.”   
“That’s possible?”   
“Yes, of course it’s possible. If it weren’t, how would those without mouths communicate? Don’t be stupid. It’s actually how Mabel speaks. Not super unusual out here in the multiverse.”   
“Multiverse. Golly, that’s...golly.”   
“You don’t talk much, do you? I mean, that’s fine, I suppose. But if the two of us are ever supposed to go anywhere together, I don’t want to have to be the one talking us out of things and holding conversations. It’s not that I’m bad at those things, exactly. I’m just...not  _great_ at them.”

“Excuse me, I talk plenty. Just because you’re a chatterbox doesn’t mean I’m not. And I am good at talking myself out of things and holding up conversations. What’s this about going places, though?”

“See, I’m from dimension two-five-five-two-apostrophe-backslash, and we have transporters, so I could go back in theory, but it’s not safe to go out into the multiverse alone, and Mabel won’t come with me on a two-person journey. Better than everyone else, I suppose. They won’t go anywhere with me under any circumstances.”

“Ah, the most respectable of the dick moves. Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

“I’m tired enough of people turning me down that you never had a choice, but I am glad to have your official consent. Now, let’s go find Mabel, shall we?”


	2. Interlude I

~~Without pauses, this rate would kill you.~~


	3. Introduction (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet exactly one human, one demon, and one other demon - in that order. One is in show business, one is trapped in their own house, and one is viewed as brilliant by their society - not in that order.

You’re back? Really? How unfortunate. Let me tell you about Thaddeus A. Morgan. Now, Thaddeus A. Morgan was good at their job, but not quite good enough. Thaddeus A, as they were called, was a sophryman, which here means that they were tasked with defending dimension 37.7a from humans with the chemical sophry. So not a prostitute from the dimension Soph. My apologies for any misunderstandings. Now, sophry is deadly to humans, and only humans. Those of you who’ve caught on to the fact that Thaddeus  _is_  human, good job. The strange thing about Thaddeus A is that they had no lungs, or internal organs of any kind, and sophry kills humans by expanding inside of their lungs. Thaddeus A. Morgan was sustained entirely by a varity of enchantments that surrounded their  house, and as such, they never stepped foot outside of it, which was precisely why they never went to visit anyone else. Thaddeus A always had visitors, of course. 

I know what you’re thinking. You're wondering why exactly this is relevant, and I’ll tell you why. Sometime. Not now, that would be incredibly boring, and I don’t  _do_ incredibly boring. Ihave to keep you on your toes in some way, and since I’m being forced to tell the truth, I can’t go killing off your favorite characters all willy-nilly. Okay? Okay. Now, back to Thaddeus A

Thaddeus A, as previously mentioned, was good at their job, but not good enough. They had a sense for when humans would want to visit them, and would almost always let them in, which was why on this day he had exactly two human visitors. Also, one non-human visitor. But before that-

Oh, you thought I was telling the story to you from the place we left off? That’s hilarious. Ihave to tell the truth in such a way it’d be moderately understandable for you, but moderately understandable isn’t completely understandable. So again, shut up, and Sit. Down. Now, before these two humans and one non-human (who I don’t have to name because you already know who they are, I know you’re not stupid) arrived at the house of one Thaddeus A. Morgan, this is what happened.

“Well, here it is.” Said Jessica, motioning at the large, opalescent building in front of them. “Stronghold of Tiersie.”

Bill nodded. “Very nice, very nice. Excellent craftmanship. Someone must have spent a long time on it. So how do we smash this thing into the ground?” 

“It’s got enough enchantments on it that that would be impossible without smashing yourself into the ground as well.” Mabel chirped. She had been…hesitant…to go with them at first, but had agreed nonetheless and calmed down considerably. Her cloak’s length, Bill had learned, varied depending on her emotional state, and she still had yet to remove her hood even once.

“Can  _you_ smash it into the ground?”   
“Still too many enchantments.”

“Ugh. What’s the  _point_ of going on an adventure across the multiverse if you can’t smash things into the ground?”

“Returning your companion to her home dimension.”

“I don’t care about Jessica.”   
“Yes, you do.”   
“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“ **Yes, you do**.”

“Did you just curse me? Rude.”

“A little bit. And I wouldn’t call caring about Jheselbraum a curse.”   
The two of them were broken up by Jessica’s interjection of “Excuse me? Okay, firstly, don’t curse people. Even if it’s Bill, though he absolutely deserves it. And secondly, while the two of you were bickering, I walked around the building and figured out a way to get in.”

“How?” Mabel asked. “It’s physically unbreachable.”

“A Mazium circle inside of a multi-dimensional paradigm shift.”

“Yes, yes, you’re very clever and all that, but I would just like to point out that Maziumcircles only last a while, so, you know, we should get going.” Bill said, and so they did.

I know, I know, you’re very interested in what’s going to happen next and all that, but did you ever consider that multiple things can be happening at once? It’s true. There’s something outside of your tiny worldview. So we turn now to the demons Mazium and Pazivell, begrudging partners in not-technically-crime.

Mazium slunk throughout the dark alleyways with something between caution and complete self-assurance. Undoubtedly, his aversion to both things that were dark and closed spaces such as alleyways wasn’t helping his confidence, but that was information he was determined to keep hidden from Pazivell, who stood at the end of his path, pacing in small, anxious circles. 

“I can’t believe I pay  _you_.” he says, trying to hide his nervousness with annoyance and failing miserably. 

“Hey! I don’t charge half as much as anyone else does, and besides, even if I did, you’d still come running back to me anyhow.”   
“That’s not true!” 

“Just pay up, Edwen, and I’ll consider not ratting you out to my coworkers some more.”   
 ** _“You what?”_**  Pazivell growls, and Mazium can feel the constraints of their contract around him like physical objects.

“Dear Isagabena, can’t you take a joke, Terrance? I’m not forfeiting my soul to you that easily. I’m not telling nobody.”   
“That’s a double negative.”   
“ _I haven’t told anyone._ Your perfect reputation’s still intact. Far as everyone but me knows, you’re still a saint, Hyde.”

“Stop saying that, my name is-.”

“Parzival, I know. But when it comes down to it, you  _aren’t_ perfect, and you might have everyone else fooled, but  _I_  know you’d just be a boneless pile of sinew without me. You’re a fake,  _Harrison,_ and when it comes right down to it, this life is the only one you deserve.”

“That’s not true.”   
“ _Eden, Daedalus, Jekyll._ You’re not like any one of them, and you know why?”

“I-,”   
“You were never any good to begin with.”

“Neither were you!”

“Eh, what else is new?”

“Just curse me.”

 **“** **Mabis** **Varinim** **.**  Now leave.”

Pazivell hesitated. He wanted to say something back, Mazium could tell. Wanted to say something equally scathing, to make him mad at Pazivell, and incapable of doing anything about it. Pazivell wants to hurt him. Funny thing is, Mazium thinks, Pazivell can’t, because while he’s certainly not perfect, he’s better than Mazium. Most people are better thanMazium. Then, most people haven’t figured out how to separate their conscience from their soul. 

“You’re an idiot.” Pazivell spat.   
“Oh, I’m  _so_ hurt.  _Get lost,_ finnicker.”

Pazivell scampered away with all the pompousness he could manage, and Mazium grinned.

Alright, alright, back to the people who are in a completely voluntary alliance, because who doesn’t love me and my antagonization of my previous companions? Nobody, that’s who. But Odysseus was always difficult. Don’t be difficult like Odysseus. ‘Aight, go.

As he took a step into the cavernous expanse that was the interior of the stronghold of Tiersie, Bill’s first thought was that it was empty, which, so far as Bill knew, was unusual for a stronghold. He had supposed there would be traps inside. He said as much to Jheselbraum, who rolled her eyes and told him that the whole point of traps was to disable you in some way, and that would be more difficult if you could see them, you idiot.

Bill pushed her forward, and she fell to her knees with a scream.

“Why would you-,”

“See, no traps.”

“That doesn’t mean- just because there weren’t  _there_ -I could have died!”

“The advantages of curses that mean I can’t do harm to you. If that would’ve killed you, I wouldn’t have been capable of doing it.”

“Oh, shut up. How would you have known-,”

“Believe me, it’s been placed on me  _several_ times. I know.”

“You’re the worst. Come on.” Jessica took a few cautious steps forward before there was a barely-audible click, and at least five arrows flew past several feet above her head. “Well it’sclichéd, and build for someone quite a bit taller than I am-,”

“So literally anyone else?”   
“Shut up, It’d certainly be effective at killing the both of us, so we have to tread lightly.”   
“What do you think I’ve been doing?”   
“Stumbling around like the uncoordinated human being that you are.”   
They continued quietly. Far too quietly.

Bill cleared his throat. “Mabel came with us, right?”

“I thought so. I, ah, must have been wrong. Certainly, she’s gone back to guard the campsite, right?”   
“You and I both know that’s not the case.”   
“What do we – what do we even do?”

“I’m not the one who’s going to turn around, okay? It’s not happening.”

“Dear god, why do you have to be so squeamish? Multiverse travel is literally the worst place for it.”   
“So what, leave various aspects of my personality at home?”

Jessica turned. “She’s not horribly mutilated.”   
“Thank Isagabena.”

“Yes, you’re very cool, cursing like a seasoned traveler. She’s not  _there,_ either, so it’s still not super great, you know.”

“I know, I know, but still. Not definitely dead is something.”

“Not definitely dead isn’t all that much better, given that we still don’t know where she is or why she would go there.”

“I-hmm, I- I'll go look for her.”

“Great. Fantastic. Leave. And be  _careful.”_

 _“_ I’m always careful.”

“That’s a lie.”


	4. Interlude II

**Don't be stupid, I'll be fine.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apoligize, but while I am writing like a maniac, I might not be able to get chapter three done today. It's got two, count 'em two, count 'em two moments in it that are very important to the plot, and I need to get those...right, for lack of a better word, so that I don't say anything I might regret later. Don't worry, if it's not done today, it'll be out tomorrow, and I really am sorry


	5. Introduction (Part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ey, we managed to get it out on time after all. I rescind my preemptive apology. Unless, of course, it's now tomorrow in your timezone. Then I do not rescind my apology. Hm.  
> Anyhow, here it is! It exists! Huzzah!

Hello? Hello? Is this thing on? Good. Now, let’s see, let’s see, where were we? Ah, yes, Thaddeus A-No? Alright, alright, you’ve got me. Listen, though, listen. All you’re missing is, you know, some curses, and, you know, a few companions. AND, and, we get those back, so there’s really no point in telling you that much about the time in between the stronghold and 37.7! Oh, shut up, I’m perfectly aware that my life is on the line. Fine.

Bill walked with some urgency through the cherry-scented forest that surrounded the stronghold, hoping against hope that Mabel was somewhere out there. When he had gotten far enough in to be well and decently lost, he stopped, pulled one of the many emergency flares he had been given from his pocket and lit it. He was fairly certain that it was more than Jessica and Mabel both carried with them, and he supposed that meant they expected him to get in more trouble than them, and, while he was slightly offended, he couldn’t deny that that was a fair assessment. 

He turned and was somehow surprised to see that someone had come up behind him and decided now would be a good time to fall unconscious.

Before we go any further- no, you shush now, I’m adding a  _needed disclaimer_ \- I would just like to point out that any actions made by past Bill, who, while he is me, is a  _very stupid_ version of me, and so, what I did in the past should remain in the past, you know, so we shouldn’t pass any judgements on  _me right now_ , and like, just kind of acknowledge that  _I_ would  _never_ do something as stupid as what past Bill did, and- what I’m trying to say is that, I don’t know, maybe what I did in the past isn’t an indicator of who I am now, and that I am a good person, or at least, totally worthy of redemption. Just to clarify. Now back to the story.

When Bill woke up again, he was in what could probably be considered a room but was more like a closet. Yes, he thought, as he propped his arms against the walls. Definitely more like a closet. He was (fortunately, oh so fortunately) dressed in the same, sepia-toned multiverse travel clothes he had been, except for the cold metal ring in his ear, which stung like the assault of a thousand sabers.

The facts were these: Bill had no idea where he was, no idea why he was there, and no idea how to get out. Fantastic. There were no immediately apparent doors in the room-closet, so that wasn’t super great. As a prime example of any immortal being, Bill sat down on the floor, knees curled up to his chest, and accepted that he might have died of dehydration or something in that room-closet, and however unfortunate that was, there were much worse ways to go.

Because I was very, very, very stupid in the past. We all know this, we’re all going to shut up about this, and it  _doesn’t matter._ I’ll say it as many times as I need to in order to drill it into your stupid heads. The past doesn’t matter. Not in the slightest. I know that, why ca-and I just-I still-and  _you-_ I can’t do this, I mean, I can, I can, I can, and- I hate you. I hate you, please, I don’t want to do this.

Of course I remember. It’s fine. It’s fine, it’s fine.

I’m fine.

 _I’m fine_ ,  ** _bitch_** , _shut u_ _p_.

Listen, ok?

Alright, alright, so-um, um, so, hang on, I need-a minute. I need a minute to think this over.

Okay, kid, so, this is one of the times when it gets- _bad_. When it gets bad. And, uh, sorry, for cussing in your, ah, general vicinity. It wasn’t  _at_ you, though. It was at someone...else. Specifically her.

Now.

**Let the show begin.**

It was then, not precisely, but almost then, that the nature of the room-closet was revealed, because it was then, not precisely, but almost then, that the floor folded outwards, and released precisely, yes  _precisely,_ one human boy into a forest that was like, not precisely like, but moderately like, the same forest he had been captured in.

One of the differences being the rather threatening band of hunters that Bill could not have known existed at this moment in a past time. He stood, brushing himself off, and took stock of his surroundings. The cherry-scent being replaced with a chemical one, and the trees being too bright a shade of blue. He took a few slow, careful steps forward, curious, but stopped short as soon as he heard the snap of a branch behind him.  He twirled around, eyes wide, and was met with wolf-like figure that stood as tall as the trees around them, with spines along its back and spiraling horns.

“Who are you?” Bill asked.

“I’m a nymph.” Said the figure. “What are you?”

“I’m a human. The name is Bill.  What’s yours?”

“What’s my what?”

“Name.”

“What’s a name?”

“Like nymph is the name of your like, species. Like, a word for who you are specifically.”

“Then I suppose I don’t have a name.”

“Ah, um, let’s see.  You can have my old name, I guess. I’ll call you Axel.”

“Ew, no.”

“What’s wrong with the name Axel, other than that it sounds like it belongs to some pretentious jerkwad?”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but it is very likely not what I am hearing.”

“Right. Okay. Say, what’re you a nymph of?”

“A forest.”

“This forest?”

“This forest isn’t even really a forest.”

“How can a forest not be a forest?”

“It’s devoid of life – at least mostly.”

“So all these trees are dead.”

“All these trees were never alive to begin with.”

“I name you...’teller of whether trees are actually alive or not’.”

“No.”

“What’s your favorite kind of tree?”

“I like Scots pines, I suppose.”

“I’ll call you Pine Tree. “

“Please don’t.”

“Nope, too late, your name is officially Pine Tree.”

“How about just Pine?”

“Pines. Plural.”

“Do you take pleasure in being difficult?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Fine. This place gives me a bad feeling, though, and I would like to survive my trip through it, so come with me.”

“Me? Why?”

“You are from one of the apostrophe-backslash dimensions, right?”

“I think so, yeah?”

“I’ve heard tales. Come on.”

Pines, as he was now called, scampered through the trees, tail swishing behind him in long smooth strokes.  Bill followed close behind, though with perhaps slightly less elegance and grace. 

“So, where are we going?” Bill asked, once they had stopped to rest. Pines looked like he could have run farther, but, noticing the sorry state of his human companion, had paused a moment. 

“While, I’m hoping this forest ends somewhere, but either we’ve been running in circles, or there’s a pattern to these trees. Presumably, whoever set this up-”

“You think it was set up?”   
“I know it was set up. Things like this don’t happen naturally, no matter how strange your dimension is. Now don’t interrupt. It’s l-,”

“But it’s my job to interrupt. Part of my charm.”

“It’s not...charming. Anyhow, I assume that they’ve set up teleporters around the edges of this ‘forest’, so there’s no real way of telling if the patterns in tree formations are actually patterns, or if this is just very sm-,”

“They’re patterns.”   
“ ** _You-_** _as_ _Isagaben_ _a_ _is lenient with all of us-_ what makes you say that?”

“We haven’t run into anyone else, so it must be fairly large.”

“Or there’s just nobody else in it.”

“So what? Someone’s watching and waiting for us to become hungry enough that we try to eat one another? Because, while you would win, I will have you know that humans are incredibly poisonous.”   
“That makes sense, with all the toxic things I’ve heard you can ingest. But still, it’s entirely possible that’s what whoever set this up wants to happen. “   
“Why?”

“Oh, it’s not like those who are amused by pain and suffering are anything like a rarity out here. I mean, the two of us are at least fairly intelligent creatures, so inevitably, one of us would run away from the other once they got hungry, likely you, and try to come up with some clever method of killing the other. Past that, depending on how poisonous exactly you are, the effects of that could be entertaining a-,”

“Interrupt!”   
“Why-,”   
“You seemed like you were almost done talking, and you’re really easy to pick on.”   
“That doesn’t mean you  _sh_ _-,”_

“Ha, but I can!”

“I’m considering eating you sooner than the point of starv-,”

It was not Bill who interrupted this time, but instead the loud snapping sound, and the hole buried into one of the perfect lifeless trees behind them, and Pines  _howled,_ high and scared _,_  a sound of pure animal terror so ear-shattering and mind-rending that it buried itself in Bill’s head and stayed there, playing on a loop, over and over again. Then he grabbed Bill and  _ran_.

Pines darted through the forest, zigzagging around trees and bushes, careful and yet entirely uncaring. He ran and ran and ran, until he finally came to a sudden stop, as he was suddenly faced with what would have seemed to be a small child, if not for the scarlet tanager wings that extended from her back like bright fiery lights, and her blown golden pupils and pink irises.

“Hey.” She said, out of breath and panting. “I’m Mabel.”


	6. Interlude III

_I want to know when I come in. When do I come in?_


	7. Perspective (Part I)

I’d say we should get right back into where we last left off, but that would leave you without the dreadful taste of suspense in your mouth, and I take pride in being difficult. 

Jessica, clever as she was, had made it across the floor safely, or at least moderately so (the quick healing spells she had performed on herself being, she decided, irre 5 levant so long as she was fine now).

Jessica, clever as she was, had  _ not  _ anticipated the  Principiumetfinis  (which was a rather long name, but that was to be ignored) to have been enchanted so that on contact she saw something that she was never able to properly describe. It was, she would go on to say, like watching a star just before it exploded, or like seeing all the colors she shouldn’t have been able to, or perhaps just witnessing every moment in time at once. And yet, somehow, she wasn’t overwhelmed by it, somehow it was just like anything else she’d ever seen, and it was beautiful.

She reached out, trying to touch it, whatever it was, and fell through dreams and hopes, each one of them seemingly indistinguishable from the others, and yet unique and personal in their own ways. It was warm and cold at the same time, and she felt neither one and both. She was one thousand things, and she had lived one thousand lives, and she realized, both gradually and suddenly, that this would be her last, and she wondered, while at the same time wondering billions of other things, what would happen to her afterwards. She saw herself, clear as day, and what exactly she would become without knowing any of the details. She saw herself, and she was  Jheselbraum , no matter what her name was, and this was her, and this was who she was, with no duplicity, no contradictions, no double meanings.

Then she saw nothing, for a moment, while her eyes adjusted back to the dimness that was the inside of the stronghold of  Tiersie . She lay on the cold stone floor, her body overheating. Her arms were wrapped around the  Principiumetfinis  like a vice, and she forced herself to relax, to breathe in and out like she was supposed to and let the too-warm tears trace their way across her face. She lay there for a very long time, quiet, not unable to move, but unwilling, and thought about what it meant – it had seemed clear when she had been seeing it, but here it was just confusing – and considered the fact that she now thought of herself as  Jheselbraum  the Unswerving.

What else do we have to stall with? Ah, right, okay, to  Pazivell  and  Mazium , because everyone loves the comedic and-or non-comedic antics of two people with such deep hatred for each other it interferes with their daily lives, because one of them is dying, and one of them has no soul,  amirite ?

Mazium  was a barker, and he did his job well. He walked and talked with a certainty seen in few those days, and every bit of it was plastered into his chosen occupation. 

He was careful, mostly, not to bother anyone who looked important and busy. Separately, they were fine, as if he got someone in who was busy, it was an admittedly minor victory for him, and if he got someone important in, that seemed to imply that the  InterCarnival  was popular, which, in turn, led to more customers, and that was his goal in the long run.

Today would’ve been a good day if he weren’t slated to work with  Pazivell , or, as he was supposed to be called to anyone listening,  Parzival . Perfect  Parzival ,  Parzival  the Genius. He was like magic, and he was, at least partially, magic, but he was also partially actual intelligence, with annoyed  Mazium  to no end.  Pazivell  looked no happier with their current situation, but then,  Pazivell  didn’t like to be on display anyway. 

Pazivell  had never really wanted to be a carney, and away from the crowds, it showed. He talked the ears  off of  anyone who would listen about how he would get out of the IC someday, and while even the concept was as unlikely as a  Lioclkspun  finding a way out of 04601.  _ Everyone _  knew what happened to people who tried to get out of the  InterCarnival , so, even with his distinct lack of common sense and ability to pick up on social cues,  Pazivell  had to realize that he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. 

Mazium  didn’t think the IC was that bad, though, especially not with all the travelling they all got to do. He’d seen everywhere from 768 to 9043, and he frankly couldn’t have been more content with that. It was the IC’s main, and, once you got in, only appeal, and so naturally everyone who had been in for more than a week wanted out.

“Which dimension am I from?” Asked a chipper Galian child upon  Mazium’s  prompting.

“Seventy-three fifty-five,”  was  Pazivell ’s  almost instantaneous answer , voice filled with  fake enthusiasm, and dear  Isagabena ,  Mazium  could practically hear the elongated words.  Pazivell  made a point of writing the whole thing out, even when he was slated to record visitors – it was impossible not to tell when he had last gone.

“Are you alright?”  Pazivell  hissed, once they were suitably alone. 

“Why do you care?” Mazium snapped back.   
“I don’t know, maybe because you’re the only thing keeping me alive, and if you die, I die too?”   
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“You seem on edge.”

“Didn’t I just say I was fine?”

“Maybe I don’t believe you.”

“ _ Maybe  _ I don’t care.”

“ Finniker .”

“ _ Consider,  _ _ Mazium _ _ , that we are living on a system of communication.” _

_ “ _ **_ Not in daylight.” _ **

Pazivell  shut up, though not happily.  

“Besides, you’re one to talk.”

Alright, alright, so we have those done, is there anything else? No? Really? Are we sure?  _ Completely  _ sure? Okay, fine, whatever. It’s all good. To Pines, Mabel-wait, wait-oh  _ jeez _ ,   to Mabel, Pines,   and myself.  No, that’s not, that’s not better. To Pines, myself, and Mabel.

Pines dropped Bill. 

“Hello.”

“Are you a threat?”   
“In these circumstances, is being a threat an option?”

“I don’t think so.”

Bill stood.

“Ow.” he said, glaring up at Pines pointedly.

 “Hi Bill. Howsit?”   
“I went looking for you. And then that wasn’t an option anymore.”

“You know each other?”

“Yeah. Mabel, why’d you leave?”

“ Y’all  are boring.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I felt people nearby and I went to go check it out. It didn’t go down super well.”

“Alright, okay, whatever. It’s all good. Do you know how to get out?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but I haven’t used magic since I fought our imprisoners. I might be able to get us out if you give me time.”

“We don’t exactly  _ have _  time.  There are humans after us. ” Pines squeaked. 

“How do you know they’re human?” 

“I can smell dimensions.”

“Do you have a better idea?” Mabel snapped.    
“Well-not exactly.”

They stood there a minute, letting themselves breathe, and to calm down, and to be (at least mostly) fine. Then, without stopping to consider it, Bill scaled the nearest tree, something he was surprisingly good at for having lived in the city for most of his life, and jumped off of it.

“Why did you-,”   
“I’m trying to make myself bleed. As an experiment. This tree wasn’t tall enough.”

“ _ There are easier ways to do that than jumping off of trees.”  _

“I have claws. Also, if all you want is blood, you probably shouldn’t be breaking bones as well.”

“Shut up, it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I am, it’s true. Alright, so you’re probably wondering why I want blood-,”

“No, not really.”

“Yeah, I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“I mean, you don’t seem the type to cause yourself pain without  absolute certainty that it’ll give  results.”

“He is usually.”

“ A sudden moment of generosity, then?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

During this time, Bill, as someone who was unlikely to stand around and listen to insults be thrown at him, had once again walked down the hill and managed to find a suitably sharp rock. By “find” I of course mean that he had thrown the first rock he had seen into a tree as hard as he could until it broke into pieces.

Point being that he had a sharp rock.

He held it firmly in his hand and began to walk back towards his companions, who were currently getting along like a house on fire (which, may I say, is one of the best idioms to ever exist). When I say firmly, I of course do not mean tightly, as it was a very sharp rock, and he was rather unnerved by the sight of blood.

When he was suitably close to both Pines and Mabel, he dragged the knife across his palm, and slowly, terribly, terribly, slowly, the blood dripped from his hand, and slowly, to slowly for it to be still following the laws of physics, and  the ground swallowed the three of them whole.

Ah, looks like we’re out of time. Stay tuned, folks, because next we turn to  At a lanta , queen of  Tharoki .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that anyone reading this story likes pictures Mazium and Pazivell much differently than I do, and I had to make an effort not to describe either of their physical appearances in length.  
> So that was fun.


	8. Interlude IV

**I think I can fit you in at the end of the next chapter.**

 


	9. Perspective (Part II)

For as much as she had thought about this and planned it out, Atalanta thought, this was going  _very_ poorly. It had started well- they had managed at least half of an attack on Azamakeu, and then it had just kind of...gone downhill from there, she supposed.  

She wasn’t sure how this had happened or how she had gotten into the  **_TOWER OF ASAMAKARA._ **  It had been okay, and then it just wasn’t, and everyone was freaking out, because  _what the heck why did they have the queen in the_ **_TOWER OF ASAMAKARA_ ** _._  If she was being honest,   Atalanta  was thoroughly disappointed in the lot of them. The phrase “cut the head of the snake and the body will die” was unfortunately  _very_  true in her case. From her perch on the top of the  **_TOWER OF ASAMAKARA_ ** , (whose very name was a curse) she could see her purple-clad soldiers being struck down like flies on a window. The  **_TOWER OF ASAMAKARA_ **wasn’t very tall.  

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and went back to trying to escape the  **_TOWER OF ASAMAKARA_ **, and using one of the ever-increasing number of lockpicks hidden in the folds of her clothing, picked the lock and stepped out into the hallway before – she was pulled into the room directly outside of it. 

“Nice try. You’re getting better.” said Orpheus. “But I’m afraid I have to kill you.”   
“I respect that.” She told him, completely genuine.  

He buried his axe through her neck. 

For as much as they had thought about this and planned it out,  Ikatell thought, this was going  _very_ poorly. It had started well- Taeatinkera and the 2-dimentional child snatchers had both done decently with their acts, and no designated carney was unfound . 

Then was Pazivell and Mazium. There was no explaining their behavior during this evening’s performance, especially not with how they’d had nearly the whole uneventful day to work through any problems that they had with each other and/or bring them up to management.  

But no.  The two of them just  _had_ to have their little squabble  _onstage_ , when their makeshift tent had been packed with audience members. Some of them thought it was part of the act, and  Ikatell  was glad that this wasn’t one of the dimensions the  InterCarnival  frequented in. If this were 342qh, say, the  **ringmaster** would have killed the  both of them  off already. As of now, though...well,  Ikatell  didn’t know. They scampered down the velvet-covered lanes that led up to the  **ringmaster** ’s near-permanent dwelling, zigzagging back and forth between the tents. It’s arbitrary to try and hide  themself  from the  **ringmaster** , they know, but they do anyway, to make themself feel a little safer.  

Mazium is sitting on the ground outside, playing with the dirt, but he looks up as soon as he hears Ikatell approaching.  

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll have a dead body to deal with soon.” he says.  

“Are you in pain?”   
“Some. Not much. I was talking about  _Paz_ _,_ though.”   
“What’s he doing?” 

“You knew him. He was always argumentative.” 

“Please don’t talk about Parzival in the past tense.” 

“His name is Pazivell. And I’m just practicing for five minutes from now.” 

“Oh dear Isagabena. Is it that bad?” 

“You had better believe it’s that bad.  **He** ’s furious.” 

“Oh dear Isagabena.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

You know, now feels like a good time to talk about my opinion on oranges. I know that typically, now wouldn’t be a good time to talk about my opinion on oranges, but, you know, I feel as though I’ve earned it. As though all my hard work telling you this story, and not inserting my own _incredibly witty_  commentary on the events at hand at  _every_ possible chance is enough to deserve to talk about my opinion on oranges. 

  1. ORANGES. 



They’re good, for a citrus fruit. I like grapefruit better, but like, also, lemons? Lemons are like the pathetic little brother of oranges, and you look at them just like, “why? Why can’t you be more like oranges, lemons?” Oranges. Very orange flavored, those oranges.  I like orange juice. Orange juice is good as heck, okay. 

Okay. Yeah, yeah, I’m done now. Alright.  

The three of them – Mabel, Bill, and Pines – fell for what felt like an eternity, spiraling downwards faster and faster until – they landed on solid ground, in somewhere entirely different.  

The place they’d left. 

It was the exact same. And somehow entirely new at the same time. Both. Like magic. 

Mabel corralled Pines (who was  _not_ okay with falling) back to their campsite, where Jheselbraum sat, watching the sunset.  

“Hey,” She said distantly, like they had never been gone at all. 

“Jheselbraum, this is Pines. Pines, this is Jheselbraum.”  

“Her name is-,” Bill started. 

“My name is Jheselbraum.” She said, without looking at them. “Jheselbraum the Unswerving, Great Oracle of the Axolotl.” 

“What?”   
“I’m not certain what it means. It doesn’t particularly matter what it means. But that is who I am.” 

“Are you okay?” Mabel asked, and reached a hand out to put on her shoulder, which Jheselbraum brushed away. 

“I’m fine. We have the Principiumetfinis. That’s what matters.” 

Jheselbraum reached the thing out to Mabel, who took it carefully. 

“Well then. On to our next stop.” 

Move forward, and not back. Move with purpose and pride. Move, and look like you know where you are going, even if you do not. Move, and take with you the keys to at least one heart. Move carefully, or as carefully as is reasonable. Move with reason and non-reason, move with chaos and order, and when you move, leave something behind. Move. Do not run, do not escape. Just move-and be careful. Take it from someone who has stopped the death of a world just to kill another. Move forward, and not back-for so long as you can help it. 

Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Not much, anyhow. 

Queen Atalanta, the youngest queen the people of Tharoki had ever had. She stood at arm’s length from the young prince of  Azamakeu, dagger in hand as she approached. Achillies begged for his life, and she hated the way she wanted to let him free, but if she ever wanted to be free herself, she didn’t have much choice. The whole royal family had to be dead to grant her freedom. To get her out of this hell.  

She pushed her feelings aside. “Oh, come on, we’ve been through this a dozen times. I-,” She stopped short as a crossbow bolt buried itself in her chest. 

No way in Odradam had they let Achillies have a crossbow, she thought, even as he held the heavy weapon in his hands in front of her. She knew this was his first time killing her – and she was determined to make it as awful for him as it is for her, because crossbow wounds take a long time to kill her.  She could already see tears running down his cheeks. Guilt. This’ll be easy. 

Pines had been left on the outskirts of 37.7a. Mabel claimed he was, quote, “too large to take with us and not attract attention”. Something Bill and Jheselbraum both agreed with. 

It’s been a long time since I’ve said a sentence like that. 

“You know, maybe if we wanted not to attract attention, we could, say, go when we can’t be seen?”   
“They increase security at night. Besides, we need more water.”   
“That is true.” 

They stalked through the streets, staying mostly to the sides, walked in a silence that was so extreme it was awful, despite the ambient noise of the marketplace that was 37.7a. 

“Here.” Jheselbraum said, pointing to a house. “We’ll trade it off here.”   
“What if we don’t listen to you?” Bill challenged. 

Jheselbraum stared at him with that look she had kept getting ever since their return to camp. She looked as though she had eaten the sun and the stars, and she was perfectly prepared to eat you, too. “You will.” She told him, and the ground shook, and her eyes shattered, and entire dimensions faded away with stricken pops, and- 

“Bill!” Mabel shook him. “Stay with us, friend.” 

 He nodded, vaguely, and tried for petulance. “That’s boring though.”   
Mabel pulled Bill into the building. 

The inside of the house was ornate, lavishly decorated with all manner of no-doubt-magical gemstones. The glass (it couldn’t really be glass; no glass had ever sparkled like that) in the the windows was pristine. They had entered into a dining room, it seemed, given the enchantingly beautiful carvings on the golden chairs around a table placed square in the center of the room. At it sat a person who looked as though they were in some state of decay. One of their arms seemed almost entirely stripped of flesh. They looked up, and one of their eyes was missing. Feathers fell from their hair, where the dead corpse of some type of bird had been left to fester and rot. Their midsection, which could be clearly seen through the crystalline table, was almost entirely missing, to where you could see the blood-caked spine that was the only thing that held them up. 

“Hello.” They said. “I’m Thaddeus A. Morgan” 

Bill threw up. 


	10. Interlude V

**I'm hungry.**


	11. Perspective (Part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I am aware that this chapter is late. Circumstances beyond my control have rendered me with considerably less free time for writing over at least the next few months, and so I can't promise any definite schedule for new chapters. I'll keep trying to get them out as quickly as possible, at least, and I really am sorry.  
> I've also fixed the screwiness of the previous chapter. Yay.

Hey, listen. Okay. So, like, okay, um.  So, at this point we  gotta  have, like, what? A lunch  break ? I like lunch. It’s generally important for, like, survival, and stuff. No? Okay. Fine. Whatever. I’m fine. Let’s go, let’s do this.

Mazium  and  Ikatell  sit outside the  ** ringmaster ** 's tent for what feels like forever but is probably only around fifteen minutes before  Pazivell  walks out. 

“See, he’s not dead. I told you he’d be fine.”  Ikatell  said, butting against one of Mazium’s  legs.

“You’re not dead. I thought you’d be dead.” Mazium told him. “You alright?”   
“We’re out.” Pazivell announced, his voice monotonous, shocked. 

“Define ‘out’.”

“We have to leave the IC.”

There was a moment of cold silence, and the only marking of time passing was the subtle click of  Isagabena’s  eyes as they turn, ever so slowly, to the left. Pazivell  was tense.  Mazium  took a step towards him, careful and precise, and Pazivell  made a noise- high, sharp, and short, the meaning of which his translator couldn’t discern,  but for  the obvious  _ terror _  that radiated from him. The other two jumped back. 

“Are you okay?”  Ikatell  asked, concern painted on her face like a Van Gogh. 

“I’m going to die.” He tittered, hysteria setting in. “I’m going to die, and nobody is going to care.” Titters turned into full on laughter, and then broken sobs.

“Did you say  _we_ were out?”   
“Y-yea _h-h-h-h,”_

_ “ _ Then calm down. I’m not going to let you die. I’m not  _ allowed  _ to let you die.” 

“I-I oh right,”   
   
_“_ Yeah _,_ _oh right.”_

 _“_ Since when are you going to die?” Ikatell squeaked.   
“He’s not.”

“No, I mean like-,”   
“Doesn’t matter, moving on. Hey, since neither of us can get back into the tent-say bye for us, mkay kid?”   
“Okay.”

“Grow a brain, while you’re at it.”

“Hey!”   
“Joking.”

And the two set off alone together.

Oh hey! A break in the tale! What a convenient time for some lunch! No? No? Really? Alright, Fine.  _ Fine. _  It’s not like I care.

Atalanta  had two down already- though after all the flack she had given Achilles  last run , he hadn’t been hard to off, and Theseus hadn’t even seen her sneak up behind him, so those didn’t count. She aimed at Pandora from the rafters of the ceiling, waiting carefully for a good enough angle to shoot from. Wait. Wait.  _ now. _  Pandora made a noise and her hand flew to her neck, where a wooden arrow had embedded itself up to the fletching. 

She grinned.  _ Three.  _ That was half of them. Now she just had Hector, Orpheus, and Andromeda. She would stay up in the ceiling, except the castle was so large it was unlikely that anyone would be coming in anytime soon- unless it was to check on Pandora, and they wouldn’t want two of them in the same place at the same time. That was setting yourself up or failure. 

And failure couldn’t be afforded for them. It wasn’t too bad for  Atalanta \- she could lose  over and over again , and unless every member of her army died, the time loop would restart when she was killed. For  Azamakeu , though, all they needed was their leaders all dead.  She dropped from the ceiling to the floor and walked off, wincing at the scream she heard from the chamber when Pandora’s body was found. The seven of them remembered- everyone else was completely oblivious.

She slunk around corners, walking with a certainty she would have hoped was unmatched by any of her competitors, turned a corner, and-

She sat straight up in her bed, one week previous.

Aww. Poor  Atalanta . No way of knowing how long she was really trapped there, you know. She could be centuries old, and still thoroughly fifteen. Okay, so, um, let’s see,  whaddaya  know, it’s time for good old me.

“Okay, so you would need to know the exact magical properties of the Principiumetfinis  before you buy it?” Mabel questioned. Her voice had taken on a malicious quality that Bill hadn’t seen from her before after  all of  the non-answers they had gotten, and if he was being honest, it was terrifying. 

Then, Mabel was always at least just a little terrifying.

“If it can get me out of this house, I don’t care how screwy whatever curse it has on it is, but yeah, specifics would be nice.” They coughed.

“We’ll give it to you if you join us.”  Jheselbraum  said.

“Excuse me, what?” Was the simultaneous response from both Bill and Mabel.

“Shut up, you two. This is the way it’s supposed to be.”   
“There’s not  _a_  way it’s supposed to be! What  _it_ are you even referring to?”   
“This is the way of the universe, Cipher.”   
He shut up.

It was quiet for a moment. Then Thaddeus A – as they had learned was his name by now – laughed.    
“Of course,” They said. “Why not? Like I said, anything to get out of here.”   
Moving on. Here, I’m ‘boutta connect two important storylines! That’s a lunch-worthy thing to do, right? Geez, harsh. Okay. Whatever.

Atalanta felt it when the time loop broke. The shutter-shatter of it would have been impossible for  _anyone_ not to notice. The ground trembled, knocking her and her incompetency (which is not a word usually used to quantify something, but it seemed appropriate in this situation) of guards off of their feet. They were like that for what felt like an eternity but was only around an hour or so.    
The only problem with this was that they had yet to launch an attack. There’d been a mutiny, she supposed. It wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened, and that was the closest she’d ever gotten to breaking it. 

She couldn’t believe it had been done without her. Still, she did nothing about it-only sighed and took a deep breath and stood. Then she walked outside of their stronghold, sprinted across the amber and purple fields of grass and wildflowers, prepared to see them, to see the bloodied corpses of her adversaries for the last time-

She paused on that. They were  really dead , there was no coming back for them. She remembered the days when they’d both just given up, when she’d played dolls with  Achillies , and how she had so casually taught Andromeda how to make eggs over easy. How she had taught Pandora to shoot and talked Hector into giving up that one time she had nearly lost.

There was a silent agreement between them. Neither of them lost – they always fell just short enough to make it seem like an accident, and both sides knew it was not.  She rubbed at her eyes.  She was going soft. She took another few steps forward, shaking. All was both quiet and unimaginably loud at the sa m e exact time. 

“? yako uoy  era , dik ,  yeH ” Came a voice from behind her.   Atalanta  jumped up, blinking furiously. She opened her mouth, turning to face whoever it was. 

One looked like a bipedal bird-he was tall and thin, but also covered in feathers that were too bright a blue and giant pink-and-purple wings. The other was shorter, with six arms and no discernable joints – he was more like a mishmash of parts shoved together in some vague approximation of a living being. 

Atalanta opened her mouth, ready to snap at them, to say something scathing enough to leave third-degree burns, but nothing came out. She only made a small squeaking noise.    
“Do you have a translator on you?” Asked the bird-man. His voice was different from the one she’d first heard. She shook her head. 

“Alright. She won’t be able to understand you.”   
“.zaP ,wonkI”  

“I was just making certain! Now, ah, hello! I’m Parzival-,”   
“.llevizaP”

“Shh. My sidekick-,”

_ “? _ _ noinapmoc _ __ _ resse _ _ L _ ”

“His name is Mazium. And you are?”    
“Queen Atatlanta.”   
“!layor A”

“Shut up, Maz.”

“What do you want from me?”

“We need somewhere to stay, just for a night. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“What if I don’t want you ‘out of my hair’.” 

“? tahW ”

“Excuse me?”   
“You  _are_  dimensional travelers, right?”

“Yes?”   
“I want in.”

“?ton yhw ,eruS”   
“Mazium!”

“. enif  eb  ll’tI ”

“ _Ugh,_ you’re the worst. Not you, your majesty-,”   
“I picked that up. And just call me Atalanta.”

“Oh, ah, alright.”   
“.rehekil I”   
“No,  _really_?”   
“Are we going?”   
“We really do need somewhere to stay.  And you need a translator. I bet I could fashion one with the right materials.”

“. doog si peelS  . peelS .”

“Yes, that too.”   
“Alright then. Come on.”


	12. Interlude VI

**What are you even doing this to me for?**


	13. Collide (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you mean it's been a month? What? What? Nooooooooooooo. Surely, you must be mistaken-and nope, it has been a month. I'm not giving up on this story though! No! Never! I know where I want it to go and how to take it there! Time just isn't cooperating at the moment.  
> Now, enjoy!

Bill stood on the roof of the ruin of an  Azamakeu  capital building, grinning like a maniac. The past few dimensions had been like living in a fantasy-adventure story, complete with chase scenes and thematic landscapes – like this one.  Thaddeus A. (luckily) had healed a significant deal over the time, and they had ended up looking quite a bit less like a walking corpse. 

“Enjoying the view?” Asks the walking corpse in question from behind him.

“Hey Thaddeus A.”

“I am. It’s nice.”   
“Do you regret leaving?”   
“No.” Is the answer, almost instantaneous. “And I never will.   I was stuck in that building for centuries, and even with all the enchantments I was still dying.” A pause. “You have no idea what that feels like.”

“Uh, yeah, I definitely don’t.”   
Thaddeus A. sighs, long and slow. “I wish there was someone who could.”

“Hey, there’s  _ gotta _ __ be. The multiverse is like, really big.”

“Like really big indeed.”

“Do you know what the other side effect of the thing was?”   
“The  _thing_?”   
“I can’t pronounce the name! It’s, like, Priphil-,”   
“Firstly,  _where did you get an L, there are no L sounds,_ and secondly, no. I don’t know about any side effects so far.”

“Do you like travelling?”   
“Of course.”   
“I do too.” 

“You’re sure about that?”   
“What?”   
“You just sounded-never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Thaddeus A stands up.

“What’s the A stand for in your name?”   
“Alissa.”

“Ha! You said Andrew before. What is it really?”   
“And here I thought we were having an actual human conversation.”

“Have you met me?”   
“Axolotl.”   
“What?”   
“It’s the name of a salamander back in the apostrophe-backslash dimensions. Supposedly, an oracle like your friend told my parents that was what I had to be named.  Fate.”

“An oracle like my friend?”

“Jheselbraum? She  _is_  an oracle, right?”   
“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Hm. I’ve got evening watch, so I have to go. Be seeing you.”   
“Alright.”   
Bill sat up there a long time. Thinking over everything that had happened to them so far. 

An arrow whizzed past his ear. He was up in an instant, magic shield around him.

“Don’t freak out. If I  wanted  you dead I would have hit you. What are you doing?”  Says a voice. 

Bill climbs down from the roof. “Nothing.”   
“Really?” Says the speaker, and she is  _radiant._ Her very skin sparkles like diamonds.  “Doesn’t look like you’re doing nothing. Why are you here?”   
“We, ah, needed a place to stay for the night.”

“Who is  _ we?” _

_“_ There are five of us – ah, there’s, um, there’s me, and there’s Pines, there’s Jheselbraum-,”   
“ _Jheselbraum_ _the Unswerving?”_ Interrupts one of the trio. “Because in the past I’ve spent most of my free time reading through myths and legends, and it’s been prophesized that one of the figures at the world’s end is Jheselbr-,”   
“Ignore him.” the last member of their little group says. “He does this a lot.”

“I mean, nobody has called her unswerving, but, uh, sometimes that’s just how it is, I guess. Um, then we have Mabel, Thaddeus A, and then me. Wait, did I already say me? I didn’t think I did but-,”   
“Yes you did. Now shut up, I’m getting tired of your voice.”

“I’ve barely talked!”   
“Have you heard your voice?”   
The statement is successful in shutting Bill up.

“I’m  Atalanta . These two are  Pazivell  and  Mazium .”  Atalanta  says. “Take us to your travelling companions.”

Jeez, it feels like forever since I’ve said anything. I’m so out of practice my voice hurts from talking. Ha! Just kidding. I could talk nonstop for hours. I’ve lived a long life, it’s not as though I’d run out of things to talk about. Hell, this is proof of that! 

Ugh, ow! No cussing,  _ yeah, I know _ . Touchy much? Jeez-us, you’ve  gotta  be kidding me. Moving on. Don’t change the channel now, folks, because we go  to  an  unlikely group of friends – or perhaps not  _ too  _ unlikely, but nonetheless, please welcome The Rabid Band of Hooligans and Misfits !

“What part of ‘we don’t take prisoners’ do you not understand?”  Anapha  asks, her hair sparking at the ends. 

Itrr  holds the squirming creature close to her face. “It’s adorable, though! Just look at it!”

Anapha  coughs a cloud of smoke at it. “It’s creepy, that’s what it is.”

It makes a chittering noise, clawing at Itrr’s hands, and he has no choice but to drop it. 

“Where are we, anyway?” He asks  Anapha , and she rolls her eyes at him. 

“I don’t know for certain, but I’ll figure it out, okay? Just  kinda ...chill. We need a minute to chill. ” She says, sighing and sitting herself down on the ground.  She mumbles something, mostly to herself. “Just a minute, and we’ll get it all figured out.”

Frenchie crawls out of the Star Destroyer. It’s a common name for ships bigger than theirs – and ones that can  actually destroy  stars, but for the crew’s raggedy little tin can of a ship, it’s out of place. Frenchie won’t call it the Star Destroyer. It's always “our ship” this  and  “our ship” that with Frenchie. 

“We’re stuck here.” He says. “I can’t fix the engine with what we have now, and we would need a ton of scrap metal in order for me to.”   
“What about all those other  _projects_ you’re always working on?”

Frenchie closes in on himself.

“I’m not going to take those apart.” He says.

“We’ve still got a working distress signal, right?”

“We do, yes.”

“Then get that going. We need to get out of this dimension before corporate catches up with us.”

“We’re going to be fine.” Itrr  chirps. “It’s going to be great.”   
“Yeah. We’ll be great. We’ll find a dimension that’ll take us, and we’ll stay there - We’ll have made bank by then, of  course – and we’ll get farm, and we’ll have animals. With forest all around, trees stretching into the sky for miles and miles. That’s what we’ll have.”

Itrr  grins wholeheartedly, and Frenchie nods. There’s something about Frenchie’s nod, though, that is empty, meaningless.  Anapha  notices. Frenchie’s  nearly as  much of an idealist as  Itrr  is, and he doesn’t believe it anymore.  

They make camp, and  Anapha  lets herself burn through the night.


	14. Interlude VII

_Does he deserve this?_

**__** __~~Of course.~~

_I don't think-_

~~You wouldn't. You don't remember what he's done.~~


	15. Collide (Part II)

Bill stood on the roof of the ruin of an Azamakeu capital building, grinning like a maniac. The past few dimensions had been like living in a fantasy-adventure story, complete with chase scenes and thematic landscapes – like this one.  Thaddeus A. (luckily) had healed a significant deal over the time, and they had ended up looking quite a bit less like a walking corpse.  

“Enjoying the view?” Asks the walking corpse in question from behind him. 

“Hey Thaddeus A.” 

“I am. It’s nice.”   
“Do you regret leaving?”   
“No.” Is the answer, almost instantaneous. “And I never will.   I was stuck in that building for centuries, and even with all the enchantments I was still dying.” A pause. “You have no idea what that feels like.” 

“Uh, yeah, I definitely don’t.”   
Thaddeus A. sighs, long and slow. “I wish there was someone who could.” 

“Hey, there’s  _gotta_ be. The multiverse is like, really big.” 

“Like really big indeed.” 

“Do you know what the other side effect of the thing was?”   
“The  _thing_?”   
“I can’t pronounce the name! It’s, like, Priphil-,”   
“Firstly,  _where did you get an L, there are no L sounds,_ and secondly, no. I don’t know about any side effects so far.” 

“Do you like travelling?”   
“Of course.”   
“I do too.”  

“You’re sure about that?”   
“What?”   
“You just sounded-never mind, it doesn’t matter.” 

Thaddeus A stands up. 

“What’s the A stand for in your name?”   
“Alissa.” 

“Ha! You said Andrew before. What is it really?”   
“And here I thought we were having an actual human conversation.” 

“Have you met me?”   
“Axolotl.”   
“What?”   
“It’s the name of a salamander back in the apostrophe-backslash dimensions. Supposedly, an oracle like your friend told my parents that was what I had to be named.  Fate.” 

“An oracle like my friend?” 

“Jheselbraum? She  _is_  an oracle, right?”   
“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

“Hm. I’ve got evening watch, so I have to go. Be seeing you.”   
“Alright.”   
Bill sat up there a long time. Thinking over everything that had happened to them so far.  

An arrow whizzed past his ear. He was up in an instant, magic shield around him. 

“Don’t freak out. If I wanted you dead I would have hit you. What are you doing?”  Says a voice.  

Bill climbs down from the roof. “Nothing.”   
“Really?” Says the speaker, and she is  _radiant._ Her very skin sparkles like diamonds.  “Doesn’t look like you’re doing nothing. Why are you here?”   
“We, ah, needed a place to stay for the night.” 

“Who is  _we?”_  

 _“_ There are five of us – ah, there’s, um, there’s me, and there’s Pines, there’s Jheselbraum-,”   
“ _Jheselbraum_ _the Unswerving?”_ Interrupts one of the trio. “Because in the past I’ve spent most of my free time reading through myths and legends, and it’s been prophesized that one of the figures at the world’s end is Jheselbr-,”   
“Ignore him.” the last member of their little group says. “He does this a lot.” 

“I mean, nobody has called her unswerving, but, uh, sometimes that’s just how it is, I guess. Um, then we have Mabel, Thaddeus A, and then me. Wait, did I already say me? I didn’t think I did but-,”   
“Yes you did. Now shut up, I’m getting tired of your voice.” 

“I’ve barely talked!”   
“Have you heard your voice?”   
The statement is successful in shutting Bill up. 

“I’m Atalanta. These two are Pazivell and Mazium.” Atalanta says. “Take us to your travelling companions.” 

Jeez, it feels like forever since I’ve said anything. I’m so out of practice my voice hurts from talking. Ha! Just kidding. I could talk nonstop for hours. I’ve lived a long life, it’s not as though I’d run out of things to talk about. Hell, this is proof of that!  

Ugh, ow! No cussing,  _yeah, I know_ . Touchy much? Jeez-us, you’ve  gotta  be kidding me. Moving on. Don’t change the channel now, folks, because we go  to  an  unlikely group of friends – or perhaps not  _too_ unlikely, but nonetheless, please welcome  The Rabid Band of Hooligans and Misfits! 

“What part of ‘we don’t take prisoners’ do you not understand?” Anapha asks, her hair sparking at the ends.  

Itrr holds the squirming creature close to her face. “It’s adorable, though! Just look at it!” 

Anapha coughs a cloud of smoke at it. “It’s creepy, that’s what it is.” 

It makes a chittering noise, clawing at Itrr’s hands, and he has no choice but to drop it.  

“Where are we, anyway?” He asks Anapha, and she rolls her eyes at him.  

“I don’t know for certain, but I’ll figure it out, okay? Just kinda...chill. We need a minute to chill.” She says, sighing and sitting herself down on the ground.  She mumbles something, mostly to herself. “Just a minute, and we’ll get it all figured out.” 

Frenchie crawls out of the Star Destroyer. It’s a common name for ships bigger than theirs – and ones that can actually destroy stars, but for the crew’s raggedy little tin can of a ship, it’s out of place. Frenchie won’t call it the Star Destroyer. It's always “our ship” this and “our ship” that with Frenchie.  

“We’re stuck here.” He says. “I can’t fix the engine with what we have now, and we would need a ton of scrap metal in order for me to.”   
“What about all those other  _projects_ you’re always working on?” 

Frenchie closes in on himself. 

“I’m not going to take those apart.” He says. 

“We’ve still got a working distress signal, right?” 

“We do, yes.” 

“Then get that going. We need to get out of this dimension before corporate catches up with us.” 

“We’re going to be fine.” Itrr  chirps. “It’s going to be great.”   
“Yeah. We’ll be great. We’ll find a dimension that’ll take us, and we’ll stay there - We’ll have made bank by then, of  course – and we’ll get farm, and we’ll have animals. With forest all around, trees stretching into the sky for miles and miles. That’s what we’ll have.” 

Itrr grins wholeheartedly, and Frenchie nods. There’s something about Frenchie’s nod, though, that is empty, meaningless. Anapha notices. Frenchie’s nearly as much of an idealist as Itrr is, and he doesn’t believe it anymore.   

They make camp, and Anapha lets herself burn through the night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's been reading Of Mice and Men?  
> It's me.  
> Subconscious influences, I suppose.  
> Don't worry, it's not getting us off-track. It's just something that happened to fit into the theme around the Misfits I was wanting.


	16. Interlude VIII

_You're restless._

**Of course I'm restless! What, do you expect me to be completely chill with you holding me here against my will?**


	17. Collide (Part III)

Pazivell is immediately infatuated with Jheselbram, who had confirmed that she is indeed an oracle and had begun trying to avoid him. It was hard, because their two groups had merged into one, and the fact of the matter remained that she was the unofficial leader of the party.  

Pazivell and Mazium were never apart from each other, be it Pazivell fluttering around Mazium or Mazium slinking along by Paz’s heels. They would finish each other’s sentences and could communicate with but a glance. It was a shift from their immediate attempt to pretend that the two of them hated each other. 

Then there was Atalanta and Mabel. Where Pazivell and Mazium’s bond was one of good friends - perhaps even siblings – Mabel and Atalanta’s was of a softer sort, less of an immediate bond and more of a developing relationship. There was a pattern where Mabel would volunteer to go somewhere or do something with Atalanta, and the young queen would never object. 

I feel it’s time for a break. Breaks are always good, and I think I caught something, because my throat feels like sandpaper. As much as I’d like to pretend, I can talk and talk for hours on end, I’d be lying, and if I don’t take a break soon then I won’t be able to talk at all anymore. 

Fine.  

 _Fine._  

 **Fine.**  

Oh, believe me. It’s fine. It’s fine, I’m fine, I’ve never been better. This is fantastic.  _Everything is_ **FANTASTIC.** There’s absolutely nothing that I don’t like about the situation I am in right now.  **_And you know, it’s all so fan-fucking-_ ** **_tastic_ ** **_. I’m so_ ** **glad** **_I’m here right now._ ** 

 **I sound** **fake?** **No shit, Sherlock, I** **_am fake._ ** **What, you expect me to sit here and recount the life story I’ve told to no one in** **_Three thousand years?_ ** **Because if so, I hate to break it to you, but you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever met.**  

 **NOW LISTEN. I COULD CALM DOWN. CHILL OUT. I COULD BE RIGHT AS RAIN ON THE OUTSIDE, BUT I. DON’T. FEEL LIKE IT.  I COULD LEAVE RIGHT NOW AND THERE’S REALLY NOTHING YOU COULD DO ABOUT IT.  I DON’T HAVE TO STAY HERE. I DON’T HAVE TO TAKE THIS.**  

~~ Yes, you do.  ~~

**I won’t.  I refuse.**  

~~ You will. Or we will kill you. It’s not hard. It’s simple.  ~~

**You can’t kill me.**  

~~ What gives you that notion? You know you can’t escape anyhow.  If you had even the slightest chance of getting away, you would never have started talking. We would have gotten you over it eventually – as we will now – but it would be much preferred if you gave in now.  ~~

**You can’t, and I won’t, and you can’t make me, you can’t.**  

 _He’s right. You can’t._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, that was a short chapter. I'm reworking some things. Sorry guys, writing has been hard lately, but I swear I'm trying.


End file.
